


An Official Date

by Arisprite, username_goes_here



Series: Yuuko Ichihara’s Hitsuzen: Four Star Restaurant and Bar [2]
Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: First Date, M/M, awkward conversation, bowling, restaurant AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:57:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3872923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arisprite/pseuds/Arisprite, https://archiveofourown.org/users/username_goes_here/pseuds/username_goes_here
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...No matter how much Watanuki would like to say otherwise. Or the time when Doumeki took Watanuki bowling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Official Date

Watanuki definitely did _not_ worry about what clothes he was wearing and did _not_ make sure his apartment was clean and finally get rid of his accumulating bottle collection and did _not_ make an attempt to fix his hair and most of all, he did _not_ check his phone for the time and panic about what the hell they were supposed to do tonight.

No, no, he did none of those things.

And if he did, it was just because… he was annoyed that his evening off work would be ruined by this guy!

But once everything was clean and his appearance was decent enough, not that that mattered, it was too close to seven to do anything else, but too far away to sit there and do nothing.

So he sat there and did nothing. Well, he played a game on his phone. As best he could with the touch-screen messed up and the screen going black every minute or so.

Dammit, why was Doumeki taking so long? He should’ve spent longer getting ready. Or just gotten ready later. Not that he needed or wanted to “get ready” or anything, because that would imply that he _cared_ and he did not care about what Doumeki thought about him or his appearance or his clothes or-

Actually, this shirt wasn’t doing it for him. He didn’t love it. Not that he was trying to look nice, it was just long-sleeved and they’d be bowling inside so it would be hot so he may as well put on short sleeves or something right? And if that short sleeved shirt was a better color and better fit, well, that was coincidence.

So Watanuki ran back to his room to change when he heard a knock on the door.

Watanuki changed quickly as he ran out to get the door.

“You’re early,” he said with a frown when he saw Doumeki standing there looking…

Looking like Doumeki, how else would he look?

Doumeki pointed at the clock in his apartment that said 7:00 exactly.

“I’m right on time,” he said.

“That clock is fast,” Watanuki huffed. Only by a minute, but close enough. “Let’s go.”

He pushed up his glasses and began walking out the door, flipping the lights off as he left.

The car ride was awkward and stupid and the radio kept playing love songs so Watanuki spent most of the time switching the station until he found some something in a different language. Apparently one of the local colleges had decided to do a world music station. Watanuki saved it to one of the buttons on Doumeki’s radio to find more easily later, not really caring what else he’d had saved there.

It was mostly quiet for the few minutes of the car ride, aside from the small bit of stinted conversation, and Watanuki was glad when they finally reached the bowling alley, though Doumeki parked far away from the entrance. It looked busy, sure, but as they walked, Watanuki found multiple empty parking spaces they could have chosen from. He refrained from pointing them out though. Besides, it really did look like there were a lot of people.

“Looks busy,” he said instead, frowning. “If there isn’t an open lane, I’m not waiting around for more than ten minutes.”

“I reserved a lane,” Doumeki said.

God, he really _had_ planned this out.

But it turned out inside, most of the people were either ghosts or in the parking lot for the surrounding businesses, because the alley was actually really quiet. Unintelligible electronic rock was playing from the speakers, and the place smelled like shoes and popcorn. A few lanes were taken, but not many.

Which meant there were barely any people to see them, and the atmosphere was beyond unromantic, there was no way this could be seen as a date!

They got to the register where some teenager manned the station, barely paying attention, not that Watanuki could blame him.

“Two?” he asked as they approached, tapping on the screen in front of him.

Doumeki nodded, and the guy tapped on the keyboard a few more times.

“Alright, that’s fifteen even.”

Watanuki scrambled for his wallet as Doumeki quickly stepped in front of him to pay, thus missing the opportunity to split the cost or something and now it was _officially_ a date.

Great.

~

Doumeki led the way to the lane he’d reserved, his feet rubbing in strange shoes. Watanuki scrambled after him, his face grumpy after he paid, and after he got his shoes, and after he put them on… he supposed Watanuki’s face was always grumpy, but it still made him feel awkward. He was beginning to feel like this wasn’t such a good idea. 

Watanuki followed him over, seating himself in the chair in front of the computer, tapping at the keys. 

“You’re going first,” he decided, entering in his name. “D-O-U-M-E-K-I, right? Wait, isn’t that your last name? What’s your first name?” 

Watanuki spelled his name right on the first try, surprising that, but he supposed with a name like Watanuki, he was used to traditional Japanese spelling. 

“It’s Shizuka,” he said. Watanuki’s was Kimihiro, he knew from the printed out chore card at the restaurant. They were the only employees who went by their last names. 

“Shizuka,” he repeated. “And here I thought Doumeki was a stupid name.” Watanuki said, snobbishly.

Doumeki rolled his eyes, and moved to pick a ball. A green swirly one caught his eye, and the weight was right, so he grabbed it and stood in place, eying the pins. He swung and took a pretty good shot, hitting a good chunk of them down. He had been bowling a fair number of times, mostly dragged along by his cousins Noah and Kana, and the others during his teenage years. He wasn’t terrible, but he wasn’t great either, but he was sure that regardless of their skill levels, Watanuki would turn it into a competition anyway. 

He finished up his turn, and went and sat down across from Watanuki as the pins reset. 

“Your turn,” he said, watching his score pop up on screen. A spare. Watanuki looked displeased. 

“Fine,” he snapped, standing up and grabbing the bowling ball. He did okay, knocking over three pins on his first roll, and three more on his second. He sat back down, huffing and upset, before turning to his and shouting. 

“Oh, what, you’re not gonna rub it in my face? What do you expect, I haven’t been bowling in years! I’m just warming up! Give me a game, and then I’ll beat you!” 

Doumeki inwardly smirked. There was the competitiveness he’d expected. Doumeki really wasn’t that good, and Watanuki had good form. Once he warmed up, he probably would beat him. 

Doumeki leaned back in the hard plastic seat, and felt his stomach growl a little. He hadn’t eaten dinner before this (he wasn’t hungry, and it was probably because he was nervous, but he didn’t really want to admit that to himself) and now that he was relaxing, he was working up a bit of an appetite. 

“Do you want a pretzel?” he asked, since he’d mentioned them before, and he couldn’t work himself up to finding a restaurant that would meet with his approval for an actual dinner. 

Watanuki looked thoughtful for a second, standing as his score pinged on the screen. 

“I forgot dinner. Let’s order a pizza. _I’ll_ order a pizza,” he said, specifying. “And pretzels. I’ll get those too. It’s your turn.” 

He ran a few steps away, and then returned. “Wait, what kind of pizza?” 

Doumeki frowned. “You want to get pizza at a bowling alley? You’re a chef.” 

Watanuki frowned back at him. “And? What you think I’m snobbish or something? Wow.”  
There was a look of genuine offense on his face, and Doumeki watched as Watanuki turned his back to go get the pizza. Doumeki got up before he walked off, leaving the computer screen blinking on his next turn. 

“I don’t mind pepperoni,” he said, slightly more apologetic than he’d do for most anyone. He hadn’t mean to upset him, but it seemed like he’d been doing that a lot this evening. This wasn’t going well, he thought. Or at least not as he might have expected, had he thought to define what that was. 

“Mm,” Watanuki agreed, something tense loosening. “I’ll get that then, would you go take your turn? I don’t want you sneaking around and paying again!” 

Doumeki watched Watanuki walk off towards the food counter. Then he turned around and took his turn (with a much worse score this time) and then sat with his thoughts. His cousins growing up had nagged him about all the things that dates should involve: paying, planning, etc. And the dates that he’d gone on, or been set up on, had followed that pattern. But, Watanuki wasn’t some generic person. He was Watanuki, and all these set ideas weren’t making him happy in the least. Maybe he should just ease up, and see how Watanuki wanted this to go?

Watanuki returned with pretzels and crowed about his bad score. “So your first roll was lucky. I knew it. You can’t bowl at all! By the end of this game, you’ll be begging for me to teach you!” 

Doumeki took the offered pretzel, resolving to try to be more relaxed, and took a bite. 

“I didn’t have very good teachers,” he said, through a mouthful of salty bread. It was true. He’d learned from Noah, who was his age, during the one summer they’d decided to get better at it. Neither of them knew how to bowl, though, so they’d kind of fumbled around and taught each other. 

Watanuki took a bite of his own pretzel, and rolled his eyes. “Don’t offer me excuses, you’re just terrible!” he said, setting the food aside, and taking his turn: six pins first roll, nine pins total. Watanuki looked disappointed at how close that turn was. 

Doumeki’s next turn was better, and by the time the pizza was brought over by a bored looking employee, they were neck and neck on the scoreboard. Before his turn, he wandered over and tried the pepperoni. It wasn’t bad actually, and he took his turn while chewing it. 

Watanuki went, and then he sat down and looked at Doumeki, who was taking another bite. 

“You’re a food snob, aren’t you?” 

Doumeki chewed the pizza and thought about it. “Yes,” he decided. He definitely was. He’d been picky as a child, and when he was a little older, his grandfather had instilled in him his love of high quality food. Haruka had taken him to business dinners and meetings in high class restaurants, and encouraged him to try a lot of different things. 

“You just like me for my cooking, don’t you?” he asked, eyes narrowed. Doumeki thought he was kidding around, but he wasn’t completely sure. Doumeki decided to consider the question seriously. Yes, the cooking had certainly been the first thing that had drawn him in. It’s what got him coming to the restaurant in the first place, back before he had the job at all. Back in October, he’d come by happenstance with a study group, and then ordered without real hope that it would be anything more than sustenance. That first order had been amazing, so much so that he’d come back that night for dinner. This time, he ordered something else, just to try and had not been disappointed. Figuring it was the same cook as that afternoon, he flagged down the server, Himawari, and found out it was Watanuki. 

After that, he’d come as often as he could, and always passed along his compliments to the chef, until he met him in person. His interest grew, and Yuuko found out about his ‘crush’ and offered him a much needed job. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d asked him out, but he knew that there were things he liked about him, other than the cooking. 

“You’re interesting,” Doumeki said, leaning his elbow on the seat, and looking at Watanuki, who was still waiting for an answer to his question. “You never do what I expect. You’re fun to argue with. _And_ you cook well.” 

Watanuki blinked a few times, surprise at that question being taken seriously, he supposed, and then he blushed. It was...really cute, actually. “Well, you’re no fun at all, and probably can’t cook to save your life, and, and, and it’s your turn, dumbass!” he yelled, gesturing intensely at the lane, and then spinning around in his chair dramatically. 

Doumeki smirked, liking that reaction, and then got up to saunter over to the rack to pick up his ball. Their scores were very close together, though Watanuki was slightly ahead. Doumeki was feeling confident, however, so he concentrated and then made his roll. Every single pin fell to the ground. Doumeki smiled a little wider. 

Watanuki looked displeased. “You know what? Your form is terrible,” he said, as Doumeki returned to the seats. He stood up in a huff, and stomped over to grab his bowling ball, scowling all the while. He took his stance, and rolled, and the ball flew straight where he sent it. 

“AH HA! See that? _That_ is how you bowl! Go ahead and be impressed!” he yelled, while the screen flashed STRIKE. He fell into his seat, loose confidence in his limbs. 

Doumeki stood for his turn, impressed and amused at Watanuki’s form and competition. 

“You actually have pretty good form,” he said to Watanuki, as he picked up his ball. “Whoever taught you must have been good.” 

Watanuki answered peevishly. “How would you know, hm?” Doumeki shrugged, and turned towards the lane, before he glanced back. Watanuki was looking off to the side, pouting a little before he relented and answered the question after all. “It was my dad. He’s good at bowling. I haven’t been in years though, so I didn’t know if I would remember.” His voice got a little thoughtful, and Doumeki found he liked the quieter tone. He’d not really heard it before. Then, he seemed to remember who he was talking to, and grew snappy again. “But I remembered enough to be better than you, so there!” 

Doumeki lifted his eyebrow, and turned away to take his turn. His score was okay, but not another strike, and he sat back down again and grabbed another slice of pizza, the second to last one. 

“How do you have room for another slice?” Watanuki asked, glaring at him. Doumeki shrugged. He wasn’t paying close attention to the game or the pizza though, thinking back to learning to bowl. 

“It’s been awhile for me, too. Back when my cousins dragged me places to teach me how to date.” 

“This isn’t a date!” Watanuki yelled loud enough for the people in the next lane to look over curiously. Watanuki didn’t notice, jumping up and angrily grabbing his bowling ball. He took his turn, and got a spare. Then he stomped back over and sat down. “I wouldn’t be caught _dead_ on a date with you,” he added. 

“You don’t look dead,” Doumeki said, frowning. He explained further before Watanuki could yell. “I asked you on a date, and you said yes. We can leave if you don’t want to keep being on a date with me, but you _are_ actually on one.”

Watanuki gaped at him for a moment, before his eyes narrowed. “It’s your turn,” he hissed. 

Doumeki looked at his angry, scrunched up face, and felt a rare sense of satisfaction. This was fun. He stood up, and bowled his last frame. He got another strike, which made Watanuki make a noise like a kettle boiling. 

Watanuki stood up before he could take his seat, and grabbed his ball. He got another strike again, which was exactly what he needed. He jumped and pumped a fist in the air. 

“Take that!” he shouted, pointing dramatically at Doumeki, who was leaning on the table. “I’ve won! You lost! Your little plan to humiliate me failed!” 

Doumeki folded his arms, and smirked at him. 

“My plan?” 

Watanuki didn’t falter. “Yes, your plan to make a fool out of me! Not today, mister!” 

“Another round then?” Doumeki asked, and now Watanuki glared, grinning with bared teeth. 

“You’re on.” 

They played a second round, with a much more even matched score throughout. Watanuki had been winning, and then as the hour got later, the bowling alley got busier and busier. As Watanuki rolled another winning strike, the noise level raised again, with a party of what looked like fourteen year olds screaming at each other. 

Doumeki had to speak up to be heard. “Want to go?” he asked, as the pins reset, and the computer asked if they wanted another game. 

Watanuki, in the middle of another celebration dance, glanced at him with disdain. 

“I knew it, you’re so ashamed that you can’t even be here. That’s alright, it’s difficult to deal with losses as terrible as you’ve had today! But, fine, fine, if you can’t handle another game with me, we’ll go,” he said. He grabbed the last slice of pizza, and chewed imperiously. 

As they gave back their shoes, after trying to untie cheap laces knotted too tight, Doumeki asked Watanuki what he’d like to do next. 

“I know a good ice cream place, if you wanted dessert?” he said. “I’ll buy.” 

“Sure,” Watanuki placed his shoes on the counter for the guy behind it, and answered without thinking. Then he looked back to Doumeki, offended like he’d been about to trick him. “No! No, you don’t have to! I’m buying my own, at least!” he protested, as he got his own shoes back. 

Doumeki shrugged. “If you want to, but I don’t know why you’d turn down free ice cream.” In truth, Doumeki had a buy one get one free coupon, so Doumeki figured he’d just use that, if Watanuki protested anymore, though he didn’t really mind either way. 

They both sat down to put on their own shoes, and Watanuki was quiet for a moment, seemingly considering his options. 

“You can buy it,” he conceded, and then looked away. “But… I’ll pay next time.” 

A small thrill went through him. “Next time,” Doumeki didn’t quite ask, a small smile at the corner of his lips. 

Watanuki was red, and his face was still turned away. 

“Y-yes. Now let’s go we’re done here.” He slid on his shoes, and stamped out of the bowling alley. 

~

“Your car is locked!” Watanuki yelled at Doumeki, who had gone far too slowly in the parking lot. This stupid… whatever this was (a date - not a date!) was taking far too long for his tastes, and ice cream was just going to take _longer_ and then Doumeki might want to talk (ha, he barely conversed) and that would take even longer and Doumeki didn’t have class the next day, so Watanuki couldn’t use _that_ excuse to get out of it.

Doumeki clicked the unlock button, slid into the car and took time to adjust the mirrors and seat like he was some sort of smooth operator or something, god what an idiot.

Watanuki climbed in as well, grumbling as he fiddled with the twisted seat belt again.

The station was still playing foreign music, and Watanuki kept it there, not wanting to hear any songs about romance.

“So what sort of fancy ice cream does the food snob deem worthy of his taste?” Watanuki asked as they pulled out of the parking lot, rolling his eyes.

“It’s actually a frozen custard place,” Doumeki told him.

Watanuki raised an eyebrow. “Frozen custard?” he asked, then sighed. “Decent enough I guess.” He was actually rather fond of frozen custard, though not really partial to it over any other frozen dessert, but he wasn’t about to admit that he liked it to Doumeki, considering it was his choice and Watanuki wasn’t about to let him think he chose something good.

“Mhm, it’s better than ice cream,” Doumeki told him as if it were a universal truth. It wasn’t.

“And you would be the guy to ask about taste.” Watanuki rolled his eyes yet again as they pulled into a parking lot. “They better be decent, because I swear, if you took me to one of those places that only has two flavors, this da- this thing is through right now.”

It occurred to him briefly that he was being awfully childish, and the thought crossed his mind that maybe he should act civil, but then he looked over at Doumeki with his dumb face and decided _not yet_.

“Don’t worry so much. It’s good,” Doumeki as they pulled into a space - also further away than necessary - then got out quickly and came around the side of the car.

Watanuki saw what he was trying to do, but was too slow as he tried to fix the seat belt and Doumeki had managed to get the door for him.

What the hell was Watanuki supposed to do about _that_! This was ridiculous. They may as well hold hands!

They were _not_ going to hold hands.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” he yelled, getting out of the car and huffing. “I can, I can open a door you know!”

Doumeki shut the door behind him, which somehow made it worse, then shrugged.

“You were too slow.”

“That is _no_ excuse! I was just about to- you’re the one who ran around the side of the car! I don’t know _why_ you- it’s, I was-” he let out a loud yell of frustration, stomping his foot on the ground.

Doumeki turned away, and plucked Watanuki’s sleeve as he did, tugging him with him.

“C’mon, I want some custard,” he said.

Watanuki swatted Doumeki’s hand off, following him and muttering under his breath. The nerve of that guy, honestly. He was the bane of Watanuki’s existence, to be sure. No one else got him riled up like this aside from maybe Yuuko, but that was different. Only Doumeki could incite such… irritation! Frustration! Annoyance! And… well, it was kind of interesting to play off of. Not that he’d admit that. No, never.

So he just followed Doumeki in, scowl in place.

The line inside was short, and Watanuki hoped that meant this would go quickly. They took their place in line and Watanuki spent a long moment looking through the impressive and slightly overwhelming list of flavors and mix-ins.

“So what flavor do you want?” Doumeki asked.

Watanuki considered it and although it all looked good, but one flavor caught his eye.

“Mint,” he said decidedly.

“Mint sounds good,” Doumeki commented, not taking his eyes off the list.

“Because it is good.” Usually mint came with chocolate chips or chunks or fudge or something like that, which honestly irked Watanuki a little bit. Just plain mint ice cream, or frozen custard, sounded amazing. Dammit.

Watanuki turned to Doumeki to glare at him for it, and found that he was still just looking over the list and seemed to be thinking far too intently for a guy picking out frozen custard. He looked… well, impassive. He generally did. Impassive or smirking or sometimes he frowned. It was hard to tell.

Though, if Watanuki were to be honest with himself… okay, Doumeki was kinda good-looking, what with the freckles and his jawline and- whatever. But that wasn’t the point, now was it?

The point being… Eh, Watanuki didn’t really know. The guy was just terrible, that’s all there was to it.

Doumeki turned then, and lifted a brow.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked.

He wasn’t staring! Just looking, that was all! Watanuki opened his mouth to respond, hoping, hoping words came out - the usual tirade or some sort of excuse, but then Doumeki turned away to order his custard and he was cut short before he could start.

“Chocolate custard with caramel,” Doumeki said, and the cashier nodded with a plastic smile and started ringing him up.

Watanuki was about to let her, but… it was already a date anyways and he was going to pay next time (next time? really?) so he may as well.

“And one mint,” he blurted out. “Just mint.”

“Of course!” the cashier chirped, adding his to the order, and Watanuki stomped away and waited at the other end of the counter before he could see the cost and weigh it and the bowling against the cost of the pizza and pretzels he’d bought and figure out just how much of a date it really was.

Doumeki joined him a moment later and they stood there in silence, waiting for their custards.

“I haven’t been to this place before,” Watanuki mentioned when the worker brought their order out, presumably demonstrating the custard’s frozen-ness by turning them upside down once before handing them over. “Do they always do that?”

Doumeki blinked. “Yeah, I guess.” Then he scooped out a bit and stuck the spoon in his mouth and left it there as they walked away from the front, looking like an idiot.

Watanuki followed as Doumeki led them to a table, then pulled out a chair and gestured for Watanuki to sit, spoon still in his mouth.

So Watanuki grabbed the _other_ chair at the table and sat in it, distinctly refusing to be catered to any longer, then shoved a bite of his own custard in his mouth.

“Oh my god, this is amazing,” he said, spoon and custard still in his mouth.

Doumeki finally took the stupid spoon out of his stupid mouth and nodded as he sat down before taking another bite.

It was quiet for a moment, which was awkward and Watanuki did not like it but he wasn’t about to just start up a conversation because what if he enjoyed the conversation?

Didn’t matter though, because Doumeki started up a conversation first.

“I’ve been coming here since I was a kid,” he said, then suddenly stuck his spoon into Watanuki’s cup to grab a bite, leaving a trail of chocolate in his mint.

“Hey, get your spoon out of my custard!” Watanuki yelled, swatting at him with his spoon, though Doumeki looked unapologetic. “Don’t just go running around eating other people’s food like that! It’s rude! You have _no_ manners - none!” He pulled his custard back and glared daggers at the guy across the table.

“You can try some of mine,” Doumeki said, angling his cup towards Watanuki.

“Are you not listening to me?! Pay attention when I’m explaining things to you!”

But Watanuki looked down at the offered food and scowled.

“One bite makes it even. You steal my food, I steal yours, you got that?” he informed Doumeki angrily, taking a spoonful from his custard and finding that it was, in fact, also amazing. “You snitch again, I take the rest of it. Rude people like you don’t deserve fine desserts like these!”

Doumeki turned back to his custard, apparently unaffected.

“The mint is good,” he said. “I hadn’t had that flavor before.”

Watanuki went back to his own custard and took a bite. “Well now you know what you were missing out on this whole time.” He took another bite and savored the incredibly smooth texture - how had he not been here before?

It was quiet again, and this time Watanuki _did_ take it upon himself to talk because dammit he was not about to have his custard so rudely stolen again.

“You grew up around here then,” he said, backtracking a little bit.

“Mm, just outside the city,” Doumeki said, licking his spoon. “My father runs a shrine there.”

“Really? A shrine?” That was certainly an interesting thing to see around an area like this.

“Mhm. What about you?”

Okay, no information about the shrine then. This guy was terrible at elaborating, not that Watanuki was surprised by that.

“Oh, uh… I’ve lived here for about… three and a half years now,” he said. “But my mom lives a few hours away in another city.”

“You were young when you left home then.”

Watanuki considered it. He’d been told that a number of times, but he was college-aged when he left. He just hadn’t gone to dorms, just to an apartment in the city by himself, so it must have seemed more odd.

“I guess,” he decided, taking another bite of his now-melting custard. “I came out here because the culinary school in the city is one of the best in the state.”

Doumeki frowned though. “You’ve finished school already?”

“Oh no, I’m saving up,” Watanuki corrected, waving a hand in the air. “I’ll get there eventually…” Then again, was there really a reason at this point? Aside from not constantly having the fact that he hadn’t mentioned at every turn, that is. “Until then, I’m working.”

“Yuuko hired you with no culinary degree?”

God, like Watanuki hadn’t heard that before.

“I’m impressed.”

Watanuki stared down at his cup and refused to look at Doumeki, incredibly annoyed at the amount of blushing he was probably doing on a date with someone he obviously didn’t even like at all.

“I originally applied to be a busboy,” he said - the usual response.

“So, you’ve got the job you needed the degree for. Why save up?” Doumeki asked then.

Watanuki shoved a large bite of custard in his mouth to give himself time to come up with an answer.

“Don’t question my choices! I’ll need a degree if anyone’s going to take me seriously! A restaurant run by some 21 year old punk who doesn’t even have a degree? No! No way! That’s not how things work!” he said sharply. “So, mind your business!”

“Sorry,” Doumeki replied, eating another mouthful.

Admittedly, Watanuki felt a slight bit bad at shutting him down so harshly, but it was Doumeki.

“I don’t know why Yuuko hired me,” he said, backtracking again, if only slightly. “She’s weird.”

“It’s true,” Doumeki agreed, not that there was an argument against it. “She does what she wants to do.

Watanuki scoffed. “That’s Yuuko to a T,” he said, then set the spoon aside and just drank what was left in his cup. “She’s the worst. No, _you’re_ the worst. She’s just a very close second on that list.”

Doumeki lifted an eyebrow. “Why am _I_ the worst?”

Watanuki froze, not really sure what to say to that.

“Because you’re terrible,” he decided to say.

Doumeki frowned again, just barely. “Because I took you on a date?” he asked.

“No! You’re…” Why was this guy the worst? “You irritate me! You’re obtrusive and you give me weird looks and you demand ridiculous food and, and follow me places! And your face is stupid and, and yes you took me on a… date… and that was completely unwarranted and presumptuous!”

If any of _that_ made sense.

There was another pause, then Doumeki spoke.

“I can take you home then,” he said.

Watanuki blinked. “What?”

“You were saying that I irritate you, and this date is presumptuous,” Doumeki explained.

“I-” Well, Watanuki _had_ been saying that, but… it wasn’t quite… It was…

God, it was hard to explain. 

He took a breath before he tried to figure out was he was trying to say, then let it out as he decided how to phrase it so it wasn’t some sort of compliment to Doumeki because Watanuki didn’t want to compliment Doumeki. He didn’t deserve that. 

“Sometimes I stay late at the restaurant to talk to Yuuko more,” he said, deciding on the most roundabout explanation he could come up with. “She’s an interesting person and I don’t know why she annoys me so much. I’m trying to figure that out, and I still don’t know. But we talk about a lot of things, and sometimes I argue with her about it and it’s fun. I like Yuuko. I hate her too.” 

He took another breath and looked straight at Doumeki, a good frown in place and not going anywhere any time soon. 

“You annoy me and I don’t know why,” he told him. “Now finish your damn custard, you take too long to eat.” 

~ 

Doumeki frowned as he followed Watanuki’s twisty thought process. He thought he understood what he meant, though, and some tension eased from his shoulders. 

“So, you’re annoyed by things that you like?” he asked, his voice edging towards teasing. 

Watanuki flushed. “Shut up! That is not what I meant, and you know it!” 

“You implied it.” 

“I didn’t imply anything!” 

Watanuki was folding his arms, and looking petulant, which was hilarious. Doumeki felt a little embarrassed for getting his feelings hurt there, but for a moment he hadn’t been able to brush off what Watanuki had yelled, like he’d always done before. He felt better now, though, and so stood. It was getting kind of late, and the last bit of his custard had melted past the point of saving it. 

“Should we get going?” 

“Fine,” Watanuki said, standing up and turning away. 

Doumeki let Watanuki lead the way to the car, unlocking it before he got there, this time. He supposed they were done. It felt like it had ended oddly there, but he hadn’t planned anything more. Watanuki also seemed like he wanted to go home. He was looking out the window as they drove, and the silence was heavy. 

“I-” Watanuki started a sentence, and Doumeki glanced over. “There’s… I think-”  
Doumeki looked at him, and his stuttered sentence starts, trying to put together what he was trying to say. 

“Do you… want to do something else?” he asked, squinting, before looking back to the road.  
Watanuki leaned forward, and switched the station, even though the song had been in Chinese or something, and spoke in attempted nonchalance. 

“It’s early.” 

Doumeki blinked. Watanuki was flipping through stations studiously, but he thought he’d just heard him say he wanted to… continue on with the date? Huh. He hadn’t expected that. 

“What should we do?” Doumeki asked, trying to remember if this had come up in any of his conversations with his cousins about dating. It had been a while ago, as they’d given up on him after a while. 

Watanuki paused for a second, then grumbled. “This is why I hate dates.” 

Doumeki raised his eyebrows before Watanuki realized what he said. “This isn’t a date!” 

He sounded so offended at himself, for even thinking the word, that Doumeki found himself really amused. He smirked a little, and decided to take a new turn, towards the residential side of the city, almost to where it started to turn into suburbs. There was a place he’d gone as a kid, an old park that had a wide circle of bark, and some good high swings. He hoped they were still standing. 

Watanuki noticed that they were going a different way, and peered out the car windows. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, but Doumeki didn’t answer, wanting to surprise him. When they turned into the small parking lot, Watanuki turned to him with a frown. “If you’re taking me out here to kill me, I will haunt you for the rest of your life.” 

Doumeki glanced at him, with his eyebrow high. Where did this guy come up with this? 

“It’s just a park. It has good swings.” 

“Oh, swings?” Watanuki said, a bit of interest coming into his voice. 

“Yeah,” Doumeki said, as they both got out of the car. Doumeki led the way to the playground, the bark shifting under his shoes. It was quite dark now, but there were street lamps around the edges, and the moon was out. Luckily, it wasn’t too chilly, even though it was March. 

He followed that familiar path around the play structure, and the see saw to the swingset, testing the chains before hopping on. They looked big enough for two adults, and the chains held him up fine. Watanuki took the swing next to him, looking eager, like he hadn’t seen swings in years. Granted, Doumeki hadn’t been on a swing set in a while either. 

Watanuki immediately started to pump, getting himself swinging higher and higher. 

“Doumeki Shizuka,” he said out of the blue. “It’s a very traditional name. Is your family traditional like that? Well, they run a shrine, they must be.” 

Doumeki lifted his feet, and pushed off, swinging too. 

“My immediate family is, I guess. My extended family isn’t so much.” 

“Extended family?” Watanuki questioned. “You mentioned cousins before. Do they all live nearby? Your extended family, I mean.” 

Doumeki let the swing lose a little momentum, aware that it wasn’t often that Watanuki just talked to him, instead of yelling at or about him. 

“Most of them live in or outside the city. Some of them live further away though.” He paused, considering what else he could bring up. He’d never been very good at small talk, but he didn’t want to throw off...whatever this was. It felt good, like Watanuki was actually looking at him, and not even minding what he saw. “There are a lot of them… it’s hard to keep track of where everyone is.” 

“That must be interesting,” Watanuki said. “I don’t have a lot of extended family. And they’re not that close anyways, so I don’t see them often. It’s weird to think of you coming from a big family. You must have disappeared under the masses.” 

“Me and my parents are the quiet ones,” Doumeki said, pushing backwards and letting himself swing forwards freely, before stopping himself again on the back swing. Watanuki had his head turned as he swung, listening to him while he told him about his life. Something warmed in Doumeki’s chest. It was nice to have someone listen. 

“The rest are… exuberant. They dragged me all around growing up.” 

Watanuki laughed a little. “And these are the people whose advice you took on dating?” 

Doumeki huffed in response, surprising himself. “I guess I did.” 

Watanuki pushed himself fast, turning his nose up. “Well, they’re obviously complete idiots. 

But if their advice is working for you, then fine, listen to your idiot cousins. No way they could possibly be any worse than you.” 

Doumeki lifted an eyebrow, and kicked off as well, trying to swing higher than Watanuki in some ingrained childlike competition. 

“Is it? Working, I mean?” he asked, as they both with higher and higher. 

“No!” Watanuki ramped up his pumping. “Of course not! Your dating techniques are, are way too… too…” he paused, obviously trying to think of an adequate word. “They’re _not_ working, god, shut up, don’t look at me like that!” 

Doumeki smirked, pumping his legs even harder. Watanuki was protesting that he wasn’t have a good time, but if he wasn’t, wouldn’t he have let him take him home and end the date? Instead, he continued it; he asked him questions, and opened up enough for Doumeki to actually feel he could respond. He looked at Watanuki, swinging almost as high as him, and thought that if it wasn’t dark, he’d be able to see Watanuki’s blush. 

Happy, Doumeki timed the top of the swing, and jumped off, landing on the ground in a crouch, just like he’d always done as a kid. He stood up in time, to turn and see, with a spike of alarm, Watanuki jump as well, yelling and flailing in the air, and looking like he was about to break his neck, before somehow landing on his feet. He straightened upright, apparently fine, but Doumeki’s heart was beating quicker. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, jogging the few feet between them. 

Watanuki turned to Doumeki, brushing himself off. “I am fine! I was just going higher than I thought I was, can’t I even jump off a swing without you hovering over me, jeez.” 

Doumeki let out a breath, relaxing. Watanuki’s mode of choice seemed to be yelling and flailing, so he should have expected that would carry over to all aspects of life. 

“You’re like a cat,” he said, stepped back and putting his hands in his pockets. And that set Watanuki off. Whoops. 

“It’s rude to say things like that to people, you know!” he yelled, shaking a fist. “Especially if they’re not true! I am not a cat! I am- oh, I think it’s starting to rain,” he said, suddenly deflating, and putting out his hand to feel for the droplets. The abruptness of the change was pretty hilarious. 

Doumeki put out his hand as well, looking up. 

“Mm, guess some clouds blew in.” It wasn’t cold, but it was starting to pick up a bit. Watanuki was frowning at the sky, apparently not a fan of rain (his mind again supplied the comparison to a cat, but he wasn’t being mean, no matter what Watanuki seemed to think) and Watanuki put his glasses into his pants pocket. 

“Oh, clouds blew in, thanks for that, weatherman,” he said, turning to walk back to the car. 

Doumeki watched him go, momentarily nonplussed at Watanuki’s face without glasses. He looked the same as always, a slightly grumpy expression in place, but even in only the light from the street lamp, Doumeki could clearly see how _blue_ his eyes were. 

Shaking it off, he turned and followed Watanuki to the car, clicking the button in his pocket before Watanuki reached the door. It came naturally, like a habit even after only one night. Doumeki smiled, hidden while Watanuki climbed into the car. He was fine with that, he realized. He liked having habits about Watanuki. 

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless plug for frozen custard: Check!


End file.
